


the Mind, my Enemy

by Eshisakka



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Drabble, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt No Comfort, I mean comfort is attempted but not succesful, Late Night Writing, Maybe?? Not sure, Post-Episode: s06e19 I Am My Monster, Pre-Episode: s06e20 The Future, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Steven is not okay, negative thinking, sorry - Freeform, this is just... dark. And kinda weird, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23503954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshisakka/pseuds/Eshisakka
Summary: Nights can be hard. It's all too easy to let yourself hurt when there's noone around. When there is, that's when the pain finally comes.
Relationships: Garnet & Steven Universe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 90





	the Mind, my Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this is dark, and the flow of it is all weird cause that's apparently how it just be sometimes when I'm tired and feeling particularly venty. Please don't read if you're sensitive to depictions of self harm, panic and overall negative thinking.

Night.

There was buzzing in his body.

Sigh.

Every breath felt like a wave that rattled his bones, ever so slightly, discomfort so odd and ghostly. His brain felt like it was pulsing. His heart hurt, physical, a stinging that reminded him death existed.

Maybe not for him. Would it ever? Would he ever die? Was he immortal?

He didn't ponder on that much. First because it never occurred to him. Then deliberately. That choice was becoming harder now. Especially these days.

These days...

He would wonder what it meant to live. Had he ever existed at all? Who was he as a person? He had spent so long a vessel to everybody's needs. Pretending to be a vessel? Faking a persona... that's what he'd been doing? After all, now, after he's finally rid of it all, everyone knew what was left. What kind of person he was. The thoughts that actually made themselves known, the actions he actively took, the hurt he actually caused.

So, so much hurt.

It hurt. His heart. His head. He raised it. Hit it against his pillow. Didn't do anything, just a mild bounce. He did it again, more forcefully. His body felt more shaken, like a carbonated drink, ready to flow.

He moved himself.

His body felt so, so heavy as he raised it, turned to his wall. It felt like too long. Too long to bash it in, his head, against the wall. It started with just a drop.

A slow drop of his forehead, not painful, just a resting stop as he laid there, breathing. Then he raised it again. Dropped it, again. Faster this time. He repeated, again. Again, he bashed it. Bash it, bash it in, make it hurt, make it hurt more, it's what he deserved. Think of Jasper, of White, your family. So much pain in their eyes. Make your eyes, nose hurt. It never stayed anyway. The blood, the brokenness. It all healed. So why didn't it feel that way at all?

He bashed it in again. He lost count. Just do it. Just do it. Just do it, just do it, again, again, agai, a _gain, aga-_

His world shook as a presence appeared, a vice around his heart, his head in reality, a touch that invaded, hurt, it was too close, too _close._ He shook it away, his breath followed as all of his muscles coiled, a sudden rush of energy burning through his blood. His vision was black. Why was it black? Why- had he gone blind? Oh _god_ , he couldn't afford that, he couldn't live that kind of life, he-

Oh.

His vision was there. Spotted, and fuzzy, and his eyes itched, when open but even more when closed, and he forced them to see. See the figure in front of him, the eyes.

Wide.

Oh god. Garnet. Fuck.

He quickly turned, ignoring the way his perception swam, a cotton forcing it's way into his ears, his eyes, his throat, _fuck_ , he couldn't _do this to her._

“Steven...”

_Go away. Go away, just- go away. Don't come near._

His whole being screamed, wanted to scream, to shout at her to leave, _she wasn't meant to see this. Noone was, noone needed to see this, fuck off._ But the eyes remained, so painfully blunt, his back felt like being burned open, like she could see the scars there, pink patches, reminders of all he’s done. What he's done. Just now.

_Forget it. Forget it._

His pillow suddenly felt cold.

_Forget it, please._

He couldn't breathe through his nose. He was suddenly aware that, if he did, he would make noise. He couldn't, he wouldn't. No more.

_Please._

He felt a tug on his curls, a burn across newly healed wounds, too heavy, too heavy on his brain, his head.

_Please._

“Please don't... do that again.”

_Please leave me alone._

The presence lingered, too long. For too long, a time that felt like hours, might have been such, Garnet remained there. Too stiff. Too much. Too silent, a predator, ready to pounce. He knew she wasn't. He was the one, the predator, the monster. But she was the one on the hunt. It hurt. _It hurt._

_I can't take this, please, leave me alone, LEAVE ME ALONE, LEAVE. LEAVE. LEAVE._

Eventually, she did.

The darkness was was both suffocating and merciful when it finally encompassed his conscience.


End file.
